


These Four Walls

by silenttrees



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi is a composer, Angst, Did I mention angst, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, Kozume Kenma is a Good Friend, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Good Friend, M/M, Sad Bokuto Koutarou, this is so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenttrees/pseuds/silenttrees
Summary: A world without Akaashi was a world that Bokuto never wanted to live in.My friends and I keep talking about angst and I'm sad.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63
Collections: Bokuaka Angst





	These Four Walls

A world without Akaashi was a world that Bokuto never wanted to live in. 

It was a bright summer day when it happened. The sun was shining, the air was warm. Children played outside, their laughs and shouts filling the summer air. It was so unlike the events of the day. 

Bokuto was still asleep when it had happened. When he had woken up, the news had yet to come out. He approached the day as normal, getting out of bed and yawning. He then stepped to the bathroom, doing his daily routine. Then he continued to the kitchen to grab some food for breakfast. He was still tired, slumping around the kitchen as he did so. He turned on his normal cartoons that he would watch in the morning, chuckling occasionally when they had a funny joke. 

That’s when the bell rang.  _ Now, who would be here this early? _

Koutarou trudged to the door, peeking out the window to see that it was Kuroo at his door. He unlocked the door before pulling it open. Koutarou, of course, wasn’t awake enough, or else he would have caught the expression on Kuroo’s face. He wouldn’t have started with, “Tetsu? Why the hell are you here?” 

Kuroo didn’t answer the man in front of him, instead pushing past him and dragging him along to the couch. “Have you seen the news, Koutarou?” He started slowly. He sounded frantic. As Koutarou looked at him better, he could see the heart-wrenching expression on his face. He could see the sweat dripping down his face, as if he had run all the way to Bokuto’s house. Koutarou ignored his question, instead beginning to worry about his friend that sat in front of him. 

“Tetsu, dude are you okay?” Bokuto asked, concern laced in his voice. But Kuroo did not answer this question. He looked down at the floor. He looked so troubled and Bokuto hated that. He hated seeing his friends in pain. He wanted to know what was going on, but it seemed like Kuroo was devastated. “Did something happen with Kenma?” He pushed again. 

He shook his head in response to Bokuto’s question, but that’s all the response that he gave. Kuroo didn’t know what to do. How could he tell him? Why did he have to be the first to know? He was glad that Bokuto never watched the news. He was glad that he didn’t find out alone. But he was so pained at the fact that he would be the one to tell him. 

“Tetsuro, you need to tell me what’s going on. Why are you so upset?” Bokuto asked again, this time sounding like he was pleading. He put his arm around the black-haired boy who was sitting beside him. “You know, you can tell me anything right?” He spoke again when Kuroo didn’t answer once again. 

“Not this, Kou. I don’t know how to tell you this,” he sighed out, tapping his leg anxiously. 

“Just say it. It’s okay,” Bokuto encouraged him. A few moments later, he would come to regret that. He would regret letting Kuroo drag him to the couch. He would regret opening the door. And more than anything, he would regret waking up that day. 

“Koutarou… Keiji is dead,” He stated, voice shaking. Bokuto couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The statement echoed in his head.  **Keiji is dead.** _ No, he couldn’t be,  _ Koutarou thought to himself.  _ He was supposed to come home today after he flew in, after a few meetings. No, he’s not dead. Keiji wouldn’t leave him without saying goodbye. Keiji was not dead. This was a joke, a bad one, but a joke. _

Koutarou chuckled dryly, “That’s not a funny joke, Tetsu. Keiji is coming back today. He’s alive and well, I talked to him yesterday.” Kuroo’s eyes were swelling with tears. This is what he was afraid of. He knew that Bokuto wouldn’t take this well. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. And that’s when Bokuto realized that Kuroo wouldn’t lie to him, not about something like this. But he couldn’t accept it. “N-no, Tetsuro. H-he’s not dead,” He stammered out. His heart wrenched, his throat was closing, he eyes welled with tears. “No! N-no. P-prove it!” He spoke loudly, unable to control himself as he felt everything so deeply. 

Kuroo turned on the TV, quickly changing to the news channel. The face of Keiji Akaashi was displayed across the screen, along with a video of a smoking plane. “Today is a sad day, as we mourn the death of famed movie composer Keiji Akaashi. When coming back from the last day of recordings for the new movie,  _ Stars at Midnight _ his plane crashed in a sudden accident. We are remembering his work today as many mourn his death,” They said on the news. That’s all it took. 

“NO!” Bokuto was sobbing as he curled into a ball. Kuroo shut off the TV quickly, sniffling as he did. He wrapped his arms around Koutarou quietly, hoping to help his friend. But he knew that he couldn’t fix this. “Kuroo, he can’t be gone!” Bokuto screamed. Kuroo ran his hand over his friend’s back, hoping that this was even slightly comforting. “No, no! Keiji… w-was supposed to c-come back! We… We had a date planned tonight. H-he left me a voicemail a-and everything, telling me he was look-ing forward to it!” Koutarou sobbed violently. His throat was rubbed raw as he continued to scream and sob. He sobbed for hours until the words caught in his throat and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.  _ Keiji couldn’t be gone. _

His body ached, he couldn’t move. A world without Akaashi was a world that Bokuto never wanted to live in. He didn’t know how he could. Akaashi was his everything. He was the moon and the stars that lit up everything when the world was dark. He was the gravity that held people to the earth, the oxygen that filled his lungs. Akaashi  **was** everything, to Bokuto. And now… his everything was gone. 

His everything was now cold and dead. Dead… in a plane crash.

* * *

It had been 2 weeks since Akaashi died.

Bokuto stood in the shower for what must’ve been an eternity. He felt numb. He couldn’t feel the water anymore until it cooled, the cold water biting at his arm. He stepped out of the shower, feeling the mat under his feet. He grabbed his towel, trying to dry off before feeling like he couldn’t stand anymore. It felt like the world had ended. He crumbled to the floor slowly, wrapping his arms around his legs. 

He heard a soft knock on his bathroom door. “Hey, Kuroo told me to tell you that we’re going to be late. But take your time if you need it, Koutarou.” A voice rang out of the other side. It must’ve been Kenma, his voice was monotone as usual, but softer than it normally was. It was as if he was walking on eggshells, but everyone had been. It would normally bother Bokuto, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t care about much these days.  _ Not without Akaashi _ , his mind called out. 

But this was for Akaashi, he reminded himself. His Akaashi, who he loved so dearly. He had to be there, at Akaashi’s funeral. He knew that, better than anyone. So he got dressed in the black suit. He didn’t bother putting gel in his hair. He didn’t care what people thought of how he looked. He knew that he’d probably be a wreck that day anyways, so it didn’t matter in the end.

When he stepped out into the living room, Kuroo had offered him food. It wasn’t much, just some oatmeal that Koutarou liked when he was upset. He took the bowl, uttering a thank you to his friends. He knew they just were worried about him. That they cared about him. But things were so hard now. He felt an ache all the time, he felt empty. Still, he lifted a spoonful of the oatmeal to his mouth, trying to take a bite of it. He swallowed it down with difficulty. 

The taste lingered in his mouth. It was a familiar taste, Akaashi would make this when he was upset. It was a comfort food of sorts that wasn’t necessarily unhealthy, so Akaashi always made it for him when he was upset.  _ Made, past tense,  _ Koutarou thought.  _ He won’t be making it anymore. _ A lump formed in his throat and he dropped the spoon into the bowl. His head dropped into his hands as tears formed in his eyes. Kuroo was quick to rush to him, to rub his hand soothingly along his best friend’s back. “It’s okay, Kou, you don’t have to eat it right now if you can’t,” He soothed. Kenma looked on, hurt. This wasn’t the Bokuto that he knew. 

As they drove to the funeral home, he knew that he wasn’t the only one who had realized this. Kuroo had noticed, he spent everyday at Bokuto and Akaashi’s house. And when Bokuto stepped out of the car, everyone noticed. It wasn’t just from his looks, as his hair hung loosely on his hair with no gel to hold it up. It wasn’t even from the way that Bokuto didn’t have his typical smile, or even his frown that he wore when he was upset. It wasn’t from the fact that Bokuto was strangely quiet. He was just different. You could tell from the air surrounding him. It was like the light around him had faded. Like someone had stolen the moon, stars and, hell, maybe even the sun, from the sky.

This Bokuto was so different. This was Bokuto without Akaashi. 

The funeral wasn’t too long. Bokuto didn’t speak at the funeral. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Words were never his thing. That was more so Akaashi’s thing. And with him gone, it felt as though his words, his happiness, were gone too. At the reception, Bokuto struggled with the people trying to talk to him. He doesn’t know what broke him. He doesn’t know if it was all the people he knew talking to him about how lovely Akaashi was, or the people he didn’t know talking about how they’d miss him. 

He thought it might be the sudden appearance of a song playing in the background. It was a song that Akaashi had composed for a movie. Keiji had struggled to write the piece, it was one of the final ones that he finished in the process. And when Koutarou had asked where he had got the inspiration to finish it finally, Keiji had grinned. He had only said one word then, but it meant the world to Koutarou. “You,” he had said softly. 

Bokuto could no longer take it. He ran. He ran as far as he could, Kuroo not far behind him. “Koutarou, stop!” Kuroo yelled after him. And finally, he did. Kuroo finished walking up to him, wrapping his arms around him for a hug before sighing, “Let’s go home, okay?”

Kuroo and Kenma drove Bokuto back to the house. “Can we not go to my house?” He asked softly, disrupting the silence that had filled the car. Kenma looked back at him, observing how small he looked as he asked the question. Kenma found that it hurt. He knew that he had always been annoyed by the loudness that always surrounded Bokuto, but he found this quietness, this smallness was more upsetting. In a normal situation, Kuroo might have been the one to respond. But instead, it was Kenma who said, “Of course, Koutarou.”

But this didn’t make Koutarou stop talking. If anything, it made him talk more. Even though Kenma and Kuroo had agreed, even though Kenma had already turned back around, Bokuto had continued. “It’s just,” he started, feeling the need to explain himself. “He bought that house when he was successful enough. It was his house. But… He bought it for me, you know? He made sure that we lived right around the corner from you guys. He… He knew…” He trailed off as a sob broke through. 

The two didn’t know what to say to that. It was normally Akaashi who could handle these things, Akaashi who knew what to say to Bokuto in any situation. They were his friends, sure, but neither knew how to handle this situation. Everyone knew that Akaashi meant everything to Bokuto. That he helped him through his daily life and was the best thing in the world, in his mind. He just wasn’t the same without Akaashi. 

* * *

It had been a month, Koutarou couldn’t find it in himself to get out of bed these days. He stayed on the left side of the bed, clinging to the pillow that used to be Akaashi’s. It was stained from the tears that had come out, some from the nightmares, some while he was awake. It was wet right now, meaning that Bokuto must have been crying for a while. 

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you, Keiji,” He whispered to the photo on the nightstand. “Please, I want you back. Why didn’t you come back?” He pleaded, tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t ended up in the hospital by now. He spent almost every day crying. Every day felt like a nightmare these days. 

But Kuroo was there. He almost always was these days. “Koutarou?” He called out softly. “You need to get out of bed, dude,” He urged. He was worried about him all the time. He didn’t know how long he could keep this up. 

Kuroo dragged him out, Kenma standing in the doorway. “Hey, come on. Let’s go play volleyball. Kenma will set to you,” Kuroo suggested. Kenma, despite not wanting to be tired, didn’t attempt to protest. He was willing to try anything these days to help Kuroo with their friend. They wanted him to be happy again. 

So they went to a local park, where they played for a few hours. Kenma was a good setter, but he didn’t adapt to him like Akaashi did. They played for a while, Bokuto feeling a familiar rush when he spiked the ball hard. He smiled and cheered. He turned to high five Akaashi before he remembered that there was no longer an Akaashi to high five. He would never set to him again, never tell him how beautiful he was when he spiked the ball. 

His smile dropped in an instant. Bokuto didn’t know why he bothered anymore. There was no point in smiling anymore. Not without his Akaashi. 

* * *

It had been 3 months, but Koutarou still had issues sleeping. He never thought he had been a man of routine, but his heart ached without Akaashi to turn the lights off every night, whispering goodnight as he did. He can’t sleep, he knows he can’t. There’s a coldness to his bed that was never there before. When Keiji was there, it was always warm and inviting. Without him, it was cold. Everything these days was cold. 

These four walls surrounding him was all he had at the end of the day. Sure, he had Kuroo. Sure, he had Kenma. He had Hinata, and all of his old friends that he loved so dearly. But that was only during the day. At night, he was left alone with the cold, dark thoughts in his mind. At night, he had nothing but a cold and empty bed, and the four walls surrounding him. He felt that maybe one day, they’d cave with him, taking him under. 

It was what he wished for, he wished for the walls to take him under. He just couldn’t take it anymore. He missed Akaashi. He had his whole life to spend with him that was ripped away. How was he supposed to live? He had so much planned, so many things to say. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for one more day with Keiji. With one more day to say goodbye. 

But then, he wondered what he would say if he did. He wondered what he would feel. Would he be angry at Akaashi for leaving him? It wasn’t his fault, he knew that. Would he apologize? Bokuto didn’t do anything, though. What would he even apologize for?

If he had another day to say goodbye, would Akaashi know that he would die? Would Bokuto? Would they wrap their arms around each other one more time? Would they cry? What could you say if the only person you had ever loved was going to leave you? What could you say if it was truly their last day?

* * *

Koutarou knew it was absolutely ridiculous when it came down to it, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to cancel Keiji’s phone. It had been 6 months since, but he just couldn’t. He knew that Akaashi was gone, that wasn’t why he kept it. He kept it because he needed the number to stay as it was. He needed to be able to hear Akaashi’s voicemail anytime he needed it. He was so used to hearing that voicemail. Akaashi had been on many trips over his time in being a composer. He was busy, sometimes in another timezone, so he didn’t always pick up the phone. Bokuto needed the voicemail, it felt like stability, which was something he didn’t seem to have anymore after that cursed day. 

He opened his own phone, scrolling through the voicemails that he had saved from Keiji. His Keiji. There were a lot, despite what people might believe. Bokuto missed them so much. He missed waking up and finding a voicemail from Akaashi. Sometimes they’d be calls, apologizing for missing their nightly call, he always sounded guilty in those. Other times, they’d be talking about something Akaashi had been excited about. But his favorites were the ones that he would get when it was late and Akaashi couldn’t sleep. He’d call Bokuto, apologizing for the late call even when he didn’t answer. He’d tell Bokuto how much he missed him, how he couldn’t wait to come home. He’d continue talking about how much he loved him, everything he loved about him. 

He labelled these ones with hearts, he pressed the most recent one. It was from just a few days before he had died, which hurt Koutarou a lot. But he needed to hear his voice. If he could hear his voice, he would be okay. He sighed as Akaashi’s voice started. 

_ “Hello, Koutarou. I’m sorry for calling so late. I… couldn’t sleep.”  _ His voice sounded tired, likely from the lack of sleep.  _ “I was thinking about the first time we met. Do you remember? You probably don’t remember, I was just some first year then. We didn’t know each other.”  _ Koutarou thought that was stupid, of course he remembered, how could he not? But he continued to listen to the call anyways.  _ “I thought you were the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Truly, I thought you were a star, Koutarou. I thought that I would never see anything more beautiful than your spikes, but I was quickly proven wrong when you turned around and I saw your smile. Ugh, that’s cheesy. But it’s true.” _

_ “I still think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And when you asked me out, I thought that I was the most lucky person in the world. Do you remember how I wouldn’t stop calling you Bokuto-san until almost a year of us being a couple? You would tease me, laughing when I told you that it was just a force of habit.”  _ He smiled at that. He loved hearing his name from Akaashi, but nothing was better than Akaashi calling him “Koutarou.”

_ “I do love you, Bokuto. I love your teasing. I love your laugh. That’s never changed. I don’t think it ever will.”  _ Akaashi’s voice cut off from a loud yawn that broke through.  _ “I can’t wait to be back with you. These trips are enjoyable, but I miss you. I miss you so much, Koutarou. I love you. And I’ll be back soon, alright? Goodnight.” _

But he never came back. He didn’t come back soon. Koutarou cried even more. He was wrong. Akaashi’s voice wasn’t enough for things to be okay. He needed him here. 

* * *

Almost a year after the death of Akaashi,  _ Stars at Midnight _ had come out. He couldn’t watch it in the theater when it came out. He couldn’t hear the last soundtrack that Akaashi had ever produced. It would break him if he went alone. So, when it came out on DVD, Bokuto had to watch it. His friends came over and they offered support. 

Bokuto hadn’t been the same after Akaashi had died, but he had gotten a little better in the passing year. He watched the movie, listening to every song, knowing that it was the last his Keiji had given. It was special, it meant something. He held it together for the time being. 

That was until the last scene had rolled, with a special song played at the end. It felt different. He knew it must’ve been for him that Akaashi wrote the song. The main character of the movie was plenty like him, Akaashi would pick up on that. 

As the last few measures from the song played, the main character had said, “Everything will be okay.” And on the screen, showed “In memory of Keiji Akaashi.” 

His friends looked at him, and Bokuto let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. And for the first time after Akaashi had died, even if he would spend his whole life loving Akaashi in a world without him, he understood that Akaashi would be upset if he didn’t get up. If he didn’t learn to sleep at night, if he didn’t get rid of that stupid phone number, if he didn’t let himself feel again, if he didn’t let himself  **smile.**

He looked up at his friends, smiling for the first time in a year, “Everything will be okay.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I'm like going through it lol
> 
> feel free to follow my twitter @muiiichiro if you want :)


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